


Pipsqueak

by yeaka



Category: Travelers (TV)
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 18:55:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20856626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Trevor sees a dog.





	Pipsqueak

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Travelers or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

“But it’s been, like, _forever_ since we did _anything_,” Rene insists, shoulders scrunching up and hands gesturing raucously. Trevor can see exactly how much he’s gotten under her skin, but despite several lifetimes worth of experience, he doesn’t know how to fix it. He reaches out to put his hand on her shoulder, trying to soothe her, but she shrugs him off and picks up her pace. Trevor walks faster to keep up with her.

“I’m sorry. But I’m just not there yet. Since the concussion—”

“Since the concussion, you’ve been a total limp blanket!” Trevor has no idea what that even means. Rene crosses her arms over her ample chest, posture tense and clearly bothered. Her hair whips back in the gentle breeze as she walks, her silver necklace glittering against her collarbone. She does look cute. But _cute_, like a small child he’d enjoy talking about animals with. Not a woman he’d sleep with. She rumbles on, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the poetic shit was nice at first, and like, I get that you’ve been nicer and stuff and I _appreciate_ that, but I have _needs_, Trevor! We’re young! We should be fucking several times a day, and you won’t even kiss me!”

“I did kiss you—”

“On the _cheek_. That totally doesn’t even count.”

“Rene...” She looks at him expectantly, then huffs when nothing good comes out of his mouth. He doesn’t like conducting conversations this way: quick and angry. He much prefers slow and thoughtful. But he recognizes that Rene’s still working with a teenage brain not yet fully formed, so he has to account for that.

He’s only just come up with an answer that might appease her when he spots a small cloud bouncing down the other side of the street. Trevor halts in his tracks. Rene stops next to him, demanding, “Trevor?”

“What’s _that_?”

He can’t look away from it, so he doesn’t look at her, but he can hear in her voice that she thinks he’s lost his mind. “What? The dog?”

“That’s a _dog_?” He does look at her then. She’s giving him that _look_ that tells him he’s completely failing protocol two. In the face of the cutest thing ever created, he finds it hard to care. “But it’s so small...”

Rene lifts both eyebrows. Trevor gives up on her. He can deal with her later. He needs to investigate.

He crosses the empty street, hopping up onto the other sidewalk, and the little old woman slowly hobbling along stops to look up at him. He smiles jovially and approaches, coming just close enough that the dog can leap up onto his shoes. It starts yelping wildly, its little puffy tail waving frantically back and forth as it strains against its leash, trying to get closer. Trevor asks the elderly woman, “May I pet your dog?”

“Oh,” she squeaks, lifting her orange glasses to squint at him. “Of course. He doesn’t bite.”

Trevor hadn’t even considered the possibility. Even if it were to fatally wound him, he’d probably still consider it worth it. As soon as he gets down on one knee, the dog goes wild, barking up a storm. It tries to stand on its tiny hind legs, pawing at him, muzzle open wide and pink tongue hanging right out. It’s the fuzziest thing he’s ever seen. It’s the fluffiest thing he’s ever imagined. It’s magical.

He can hear Rene’s heels clicking as she crosses the street. She comes to stand at his side but doesn’t join him on the ground. The dog must be able to pick up her disinterest, because it remains focused on him. He tries to reach its back to pet it, but it twists to try and nip him, so he has to dodge and settle for the back of its head. Then it pants happily as he scratches just behind its ears, completely enamoured.

Above him, the woman chuckles, “Yes, he’s so precious, isn’t he? He’s mostly Pomeranian, but I suspect there’s a little Maltese in there somewhere. This is his first walk outside the house, you know—he’s just a puppy!”

“He’s beautiful,” Trevor breathes, meaning every syllable. The Pomeranian Maltese puppy is the most glorious creature in existence. In that moment, Trevor would bet his life on it. 

Rene clears her throat conspicuously. Trevor hears the annoyance but keeps petting the dog anyway. It’s so _happy_. She could learn something from it. They all could. 

When Rene starts impatiently tapping her foot, Trevor finally surrenders and straightens up. He tells the older woman, “You are a _very_ lucky woman.”

The woman chuckles and tells him, “Why, thank you. What a sweet young man you are!”

He smiles. He wants to hug the dog goodbye but resists. Instead, he follows Rene down the street, still thinking of the dog as she huffs, “Seriously, Trevor? _Seriously_?”


End file.
